


I will stand with you

by Taigrin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awesome Sheriff Stilinski, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Hurt Derek Hale, John Stilinski as John Doe Stilinski, M/M, POV Sheriff Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out, Stiles Takes Care Of Derek, Stilinski Family Feels, feels in general, there is no porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 09:43:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4132798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taigrin/pseuds/Taigrin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Stilinski comes home to find Stiles and Derek passed out on the couch pretty much after telling his son to stay away from the werewolf.</p><p>Or the one with family Stilinski feels mixed up with angst and a hurt alfa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I will stand with you

John Stilinski has always been a reasonable man, has always been known for being one by the community of Beacon Hills and definitely considers himself a person anyone can talk to about anything. On the rare occasions he’s been called out of it it has always been by Stiles but John is a father above all and finds ending a discussion with his son with a _because I say so_ as valid as using any other argument. After all, being the only adult in the family gives him the right to choose when fairness applies and when he can be an _obstinate tyrant who just doesn’t_ get _it_ , right? Right.

Stiles’ last words not his, by the way.

Knowing he was right, however, did not make the slam of the door sting any less or lifted the heavy weight his son’s disappointed glare left on his chest. If any, it only made the week of silent treatment that followed afterwards something dreadful because a dead silent Stiles is a really _really_ pissed off Stiles that you don’t want to have to deal with. Ever.

This is why John finds himself at his doorstep after a forced double shift wiggling a bag full of cheesy curly fries, sweet chilli chicken wings and a large pepperoni pizza more than ready to apologise using actual words if it comes to it. He can tell his son has been miserable during the imposed lockdown, bringing _being miserable_ to a whole new level of drama because apparently his son doesn't cope well with doing things half-way. However, and even if John knows anyone with a little common sense would also flip their shit if their high school child were to burst out they have been _ehm well, kind of seeing or maybe you could call it dating?_ Derek Hale for _months_ , well, John is _reasonable_ and gives second chances. Or at least tries to.

Also, if he receives any more voicemails with an actual robotic and distorted voice asking him to stop by the grocery store the story could end up in a disaster, being someone that carries a gun 24/7 and all.

So yeah, pride aside, John may still need to come to terms with the whole situation since Derek Hale’s name laced along with Stiles’ still twists his guts. If the overwhelming apprehension is anything to go by, he’s not over the shock of his teenager son and the 6 years older local alpha werewolf being an item —not that everyone is aware of the little furry detail, John is barely able to handle the complaints about wild animals being around and how unsafe Beacon Hills is turning out to be— but whatever. John is willing to patch things up for his son’s sake. Wrong murder accusations and several bad life choices aside, Derek has proved himself over the years not to be a bad guy —once you get to know him a bit, that is. And John should also trust Stiles' judge of character, unbeaten until the day; all things considered and the eventual half-lies slash twisted truths about the supernatural, his son is a good kid that despite all keeps his grades up, helps with the household more than John would like to admit, and never forgets to bake Mrs Harrison a free sugary cake for her birthday.

So. What if Stiles is having deliberately scheduled encounters alone with Derek? It shouldn't be a big deal as long as there's mutual consent. 

(Still, John is not and will not use the D word, not at least until Stiles is out of college. They are _not_ dating.)

At the end, it all comes to the fact that yes, perhaps John should have followed Melisa’s advice a few months back when Stiles came back home with a hickey. Maybe all this could have been avoided but, you know what they say, better late than never and it's _now_ when John is willing —read _ready_ — to listen to his son and _maybe_ set some ground rules that would help his peace of mind in some way.

 _No sex_ being the cherry on top of the list. No discussion allowed.

John is also not going to think about cherries, not it the sex context anyway. Working around delinquents has given him extensive knowledge of what that term implies for better or for worse and, once again, there is no need to think of his kid and a grown up laying down together. No. Nope. Not happening.

That's exactly why John comes to a halt when he manages to open the front door of his house without dropping anything and finds Derek and Stiles passed out on the couch, Stiles very much laying on top of Derek. The first wave of anger drifts away when John realises that something must be wrong if he’s come across Derek Hale _sleeping_. Werewolves were supposed to have super enhanced senses that would allow them to be alert at all times, right? He wasn’t even trying to be sneaky.

The soft rumble of their sleep becomes a legitimate growl the more John steps into the house — _his_ house, thank you very much— and in a blink a pair of red eyes meet his own from over Stiles’ shoulder. It’s the first time they are directed at him and without breaking eye contact John slowly places the food on the table trying not to look menacing, aware that the wolf is not completely in control of himself if his reaction is anything to go by. From the corner of the eye John makes out Derek’s henley, ripped and bloody; his hand —human fingers instead of claws, thank goodness— resting low on Stiles’ back, gripping him under the shirt.

Either the increase of the noise or the tightening of said hand stir his son awake and, still pretty much out of it, Stiles brings a hand to Derek’s face and whispers into the were’s ear until Derek lets a soft whine and burrows his face further up into Stiles neck, noisily breathing him in and finally closing his eyes again. 

It's endearing in a way John is still not ready to admit.

Probably not comfortable with the interruption, Derek squeezes Stiles’ form and moves them around on the couch until he’s shielding Stiles and all John can see of his own son is his head, peaking out between the sofa and Derek. The werewolf must’ve recognised him somehow or there would be no way for Derek to expose his back to him which _ugh_ , good to know John represents no treat whatsoever. A father would still like to think he has some kind of power to intimidate his son’s… whatever.

Not being sure what to do, John clears his throat to gain some time, threatening words dead on his lips. Somehow the display feels more intimate than anything else he could’ve walked in on and perhaps he could leave The Talk for tomorrow.

But then, Stiles moves. “There’s been an attack”, his hoarse voice rasps, weary eyes on John while he settles his limbs around Derek, holding on to him. The tone hints defiance, as if daring John to say something about the transgression — _you will not see him again_ —, but it comes out soft and fragile, misplaced. It recalls a memory buried within John, right before Stiles crumbled down for the very first time after Claudia’s death and John’s heart lurches in anticipation. He would go to Hell and beyond to protect his child, would do anything to prevent harm of any kind to happen to him, but the thing that hurts the most is that he knows it might be already too late for that. If John has learned something, _anything_ , the past few months is that he has already failed his son, the promise he made to Claudia broken the moment Stiles fell into the supernatural world.

“We had a fight when I told him you disapproved,” Stiles continues, hand drawing invisible patterns on Derek’s back, probably to keep the werewolf grounded with the contact. Maybe even to also reassure himself. “Apparently you two have more things in common than you think”, Stiles explains bitterly, the snort that escapes his lips out of place in between the desperation and the string of his voice. John knows the expression Stiles is trying to mask; it’s the face of someone who has been keeping his walls up for too long, knows it too well after seeing it in himself, reflected in the mirror late at night when everything was too much. 

“But you don’t understand,” and with that his son finally breaks and it takes everything John has in him not to reach out. “He needs me. He _needs_ me and I–. I won’t let him go, dad. I won’t let _him_ let me go because I know he would if he thought it’s best for me but I can’t– I,” he gasps, shudders a breath while he struggles to continue, crushing Derek, pressing even tighter, full bodies touching. “He’s been poisoned and I almost lost him and I _can’t_ without him, dad,” he pleas, begs John to understand what he’s trying to say with unspoken words. 

And John suddenly understands, he realises. His son has chosen. It's not a fling, it's not just something that will go away if they are apart. It's the same thing he's been missing since Claudia left and he didn't recognise it.

Derek must sense Stiles' distress through his unconsciousness and whines until Stiles nuzzles him silent, resuming the touching once again and John takes advantage of the distraction to dry away the dampness in his cheeks. Despite his better judgement, he walks up to the coach, consciously ignoring Derek’s previous warning. He needs to make sure Stiles knows he’s there for him, for whatever he needs him for, and will always be no matter their arguments. The regret of not having sent this message through clear enough burning his insides.

“It’s OK, kid”, John croaks. He cups Stiles’ face and kisses the top of his head, guiltiness fading away a bit when Stiles leans on his hand and accepts the apology. They don’t move for a few heartbeats, foreheads resting together, but that is enough to know everything will be fine; tomorrow will be another day.

And when John stands back and wishes them good night, Stiles thanks him and smiles softly, nesting again in between Derek’s body before falling asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> It started based on [this](http://shadow-of-a-whisper.tumblr.com/post/104392480706/i-need-this-like-breathing) prompt but my angst tendencies destroy all happiness, sorry.
> 
> Also, oops - unbeta'ed.


End file.
